Of what it was
by Nemytthewarrior
Summary: What if England had a daughter who knew the truth about him more than anyone?


A/N: This is purely fan based fan fiction. It was just one night I dreamt of this and I decided to share with you all. It contains a big plot twist of both Hetalia and the history itself. This will be written in my OC's point of view and I'll let you decide if I should do one chapter in England's POV. I'll apologize in advance if I'm not good with narrative and I guarantee that there will be plenty of contractions. Feel free to correct me.

Summary: What if the written history in books and chronicles were not of whole truth? What if there was more to it? There was only one person who knew of what happened...

Warnings: Fantasy, Mpreg, Plot twist, OC, Sexual harassment, Violence, OC point of view

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the history itself. Just the idea and the OC

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Hello everyone. My name is Heather Kirkland. Yes, I feel your stares directed to me. To answer your questions, I am indeed a Kirkland. I am sure that all of you, or most of you, know Allistor, Patrick, Daisy, Richard,and Peter. Of course, I am not going to forget the one-and-only Arthur Kirkland. I am also aware that they are not just any people...they are the personifications of the whole British territory, except for Peter, of course, he is, after all, a micro nation.

If some of you people who have no idea who they are, then I'll gladly take the time to explain. Allistor, the eldest, is the personification of Scotland; Patrick, the second eldest, is the personification of Ireland; Richard, the third eldest, is the personification of Wales; Daisy, the fourth child, is the personification of Northern Ireland; Peter, the youngest, is the personification of the Municipality of Sealand; and Arthur Kirkland, the fifth child, was the personification of England.

I will explain furthermore of what your thoughts may be but let me, at the very least, reveal myself to you. To be honest, I am still not believing the fact that I exist despite that I _really _am but I would not be surprised if you don't believe my story. First off, I have an awfully long and wavy hair that reaches the length until my hips. I have heterochromia so I have my left green eye and brownish right eye. I am 5'3 ft. tall and I like household chores.

I was born near 1700's in an English regular bedroom. It's quite a shock to me that I still exist as of now. Practically, people would have died years ago before they could even reach to a new century. But for now, I am going to reveal who my parents are but please, I need you all to take a deep breath and listen to me carefully.

My mother was the personification of England and my father was his country's monarch during that time period. That's right, my mother was Arthur Kirkland and my father was King George III of the Hanovers. I know that it is disbelieving but I cannot deny my existence and the truth now, can I? If you expected a happy family life, then there's where I have to deny profusely.

Believe it or not, I was not born out of love. Heck, I was not even suppose to exist yet here I am. The situation is very bewildering even for me. I hate myself for existing, that is one real fact. Yet there is only one reason that I can't curse myself to death. My reason is mostly typical to any children in the world. My reason was my beloved mother.

How I knew Arthur was my mother was very simple. I hear everything what happens outside the womb. I heard arguments and insults, especially when Mother yells at the very top of his lungs, "Damn you, you shitbeard France!" I also recognize that guy's voice too. Huh, I sure have a good memory. Addition to the voices I hear, there was this...connection.

Even I can't explain myself very well but when I was born into the world, I felt afraid and alone until a hand held mine and arms cradled me with tender care. I also felt tears on my face but my eyes were closed during that time. I remember the voice that I distinguished as my mother's and there were a series of sobs. The touch on my body was comfortably warm then I just felt that this was my mother.

King George III, or who I prefer to call 'The Mad King' except than knowing him as my father, sexually harassed my Mother long ago. How I know this when I'm not suppose to know since I have not been conceived during that time, is a little something magical to me.

Like my mother, I can sense and produce magic, including the Sight. However, Mother's sight was different from mine. It's true I could see the fae and enchanting creatures but he could not see the past. I have the ability to witness the past of a person I touch. That's how I know my Mother into more depth than any other nations.

So getting back to my parents' relationship, as I said, they were not romantically involved. It's because my father was a lunatic to begin with, ever since his childhood, having been exposed to violence too much. In the history books that are published in current bookstores tell a lie. The Mad King was not crazy after this certain point of time. I tell you, he was a complete maniac.

Unfortunately, my powers are limited so I have not been able to see the whole reason why he'd go after my Mother but I assure you, that man lusted after my sweet mother. To say that I hated that was a complete total of understatement. I could curse him with all my breath but I refrain myself from doing so. The reason why, I'll reveal later.

I am aware that my Mother was the fuckin' British Empire, pardon me for cursing but I am unable to control that habit of mine. This habit of particularly cursing to my heart's content is what confuses me a lot, whom could I have inherited that trait?

Anyway, what I saw from my mother's past was very horrendous. My mother was sexually assaulted 5 times and the third time he was raped, that was when I was conceived. I could try to describe all of what happened but it hurts me to say it. However, I feel the need for you to understand of what really happened so to start at some time in the French and Indian War. On the side note, he only allows me to call him Mother when we're alone or around the fae.

However, I changed my mind about telling you now. I promise that I'll provide details later but for now, to answer your questions, I must relay what really happened in the Revolutionary War.

When I was at the age of 3, I was aware that other than me, Mother takes care of another child. However, this child was his colony that he treated like his younger brother. I was still my Mother's number one, which I'm thankful for. He also planned for me to go with him in the West Indies but there settled his fear: his fear of King George III of discovering that I existed.

Not only did that madman hurt my Mother, he also threatened him. That vile of a man warned him to not speak to whoever of what happened between them or he will kill his colony. My mother didn't want anyone hurt so he kept quiet about everything, even my existence.

Arthur Kirkland put up a menacing facade in front of everyone so no one will ever know of what he's hiding. Because of that, other nations started to curse him for his supposedly cruelty but they don't know who my mother really was, not even my bloody uncles.

Mother loves taking up both the roles of parents, maternal and paternal alike. Though he was having a difficult time to schedule his visit to America and finding time to spend with me aside from work, he stayed strong for me. He didn't let me see his weakest point. I believe that he wanted me to witness of how strong he was so in the future, I would be as strong as him.

When he visited America, I'm alone in the house except for our magical friends. They looked after me when Mother was not there. Of course, he would suggest that I go with him to ensure my safety from my devil of a father. He also implied that I go as well so I could meet America but as polite as I was taught, I declined courteously.

Don't get me wrong but I absolutely love the company and attention I've been receiving from my dearest mother personification. He taught me things that I have to learn such as etiquette, manners, chores, and many more. It was the only thing I could ever pay of how he loved and took care of me. The fact that I was not really expected yet has been loved ever since the discovery of my existence hurt me. Mother loved me unconditionally and I loved him because he's my mother.

Back to the history, Mother told me once that he wanted to free America from his chains so that he could see the world by himself. I saw how his eyes - _those beautiful green eyes _- were full of pure determination just thinking about his colony's future. He would have done so a long time ago but he could not. The hindrance to that was my Royal father of a vicious bastard.

Ever since after the French and Indian War, our country had no money. Being known as the Great British Empire, the king demanded to my mother that he will raise the taxes in its colonies higher. Of course, Mother tried to persuade him to forget it, knowing it will cause pain to all of his colonies. But being a madman was my father was good at, he proceeded to continue hurting my innocent mother.

That night, I saw blood and bruises on his body yet he smiled for me and said hello. After that, he just proceeded on walking away from me. Usually, when he gets home, he'll either ruffle my hair or hug me or kiss me in the cheek, but now, he refused to lay a hand on me. At first

I was confused and terrified. What if my mother doesn't want me anymore? I am, after all, a good for nothing child. Questions bombarded my way until I finally saw him in his study room.

The door was slightly open, enough for me to see his silhouette. What I saw next broke my heart, he was crying. Those forest green eyes were filled with anguish and fear, tears were cascading down like waterfalls. He stared at his hand and clenched it. I saw our fairy friends crying as well. One of them fluttered her way to me. She led me away for a second until she told me of what really happened.

My father hurt my mother when he refused to raise the taxes. He was then threatened of having him exposed to the world of his humiliating secrets. That would mean that it would also expose me. My mother heartbrokenly accepted the order. Now he was glooming on his sadness and shame. All to protect both America and I.

Then I knew why my mother won't pat my head. He felt revolted of touching me because he thought he was the most vile thing that ever existed and his existence would rot me. I was shocked to the core. All this time, I've hated myself for burdening him yet he thought he was burdening me. Truth to be told, Arthur Kirkland was Heather Kirkland's reason to live. He gave me food when I'm hungry, he let me sleep beside him when I have nightmares, he showered me with so much affection, and yet, he thought that his tender existence meant only harm to me.

He has sacrificed so much for me. Unlike the countries that he had been against for the past centuries, he was the most altruistic. He glowed when he smiled, especially when America or I ate his food. People would complain about how bad my mother's cooking was but I think their taste buds were ruined by their own food. It's true that it's burnt and black but for me, those scones that he made me for me were the most delicious foods that has ever entered my mouth. I knew he made it with his very best, though in the process, he accidentally hurts himself.

I clenched my fists in anger. It was not fair that a person like Mother has to suffer. I was then consumed by hatred despite his lectures to never be consumed by negative emotions. I want to make Mother happy. I want him to be free from my father's clutches. I want Mother to find someone who loves him for who he is. And most of all, I want to protect him.

However, the fates took a different turn. During his visit to America, his little brother has decided to rebel against the country. My mother was heart broken by that and he was still punished by the Mad King because of it. I knew that it was not my mother's fault, it was America's decision, after all. But why, why punish England?

Battles were fought and plenty of people and soldiers died for the sake of protecting each other's will. Mother could not go home but I was worried. I'm afraid that something will happen to him although he was a country personification. Our magical friends tried to comfort me in every way they could but I couldn't settle down.

How can I calm down when Mother is in danger? I didn't sleep for two weeks till one day, the strain on my body accumulated, forcing me to rest for a little while.

There was a knock on the door and before I knew it, I was sprinting to the door. I opened it only to see France with a tired expression on his face. I vaguely remembered him. When he spoke to me was when I realized that this was really France but I shifted him away from me. I looked at the path before me. My mother was nowhere to be found. I turned to him questioningly, only to be replied with an apologetic face.

Right then I knew...I KNEW! Something happened to my Mother. I ran towards him until we're face to face. I grabbed his collar shirt and yelled at him to relay to me what happened. He hesitated for a minute and took a deep breath. He then proceeded to tell me the story...

My mother was defeated, thanks to this pathetic frog's assistance, and he still refused to let go of America. If he did, who knows what that devil would do. However, America persisted that he will secede and would no longer be a colony. Mother tried to shoot him but he didn't. I knew he still cared for him.

Then there was a gunshot coming from their right. America, France, and the soldiers were shocked that blood seeped down my mother's right arm. My mother only smiled until he collapsed. America caught him and France ordered some of the soldiers to pursue the perpetrator.

Both of them kneeled my redcoat mother and was encouraging him to fight it. However, he became very weak by every second. He told both of them about me and the coward King. France said that my mother's last words were, "Tell my daughter, Heather, that I love her very much and I thank her for her existence. Also for letting me take care of her, when I really didn't deserve it" and passed away, his body disappeared in beads of light.

After the story, rain started to pour on the afternoon sky. I could not believe my ears...my mother...sweet and caring mother...was...gone? I couldn't feel anything then my vision went red. I thrashed against France and I cursed to my heart's content. I cursed my father, cursed France, cursed America, and I cursed fates the most.

By the time I calmed down, the Frenchman was in front of the now broken door. Tears flowed out of my eyes, my heart throbbed painfully in my chest as my legs turned jelly and kneeled on the ground. France tried to help but I told him to go hell and never return.

He did as he was told and left. I cried with nature and our enchanted acquaintances. I knew they were hurt but I was the most hurt out of all of them. I brought my hands up to my face, blood oozing down my arms but it compared nothing to the bruises imprinted on my heart. I willed myself despite the pain.

The fae assisted me to eat and do chores before I fall asleep. There was only a numb feeling encircled my whole being. All I could ever thought was my mother, nothing more and nothing less.

In my dreams I saw him but I could not touch him nor speak to him. He smiled sweetly and said, "Heather, my precious little girl. I know that you would heard that I died. Well, it's true. I'm sorry if I wasn't strong enough for you or for America. If only I had the courage to stand up against him...but that's one thing I admired about you. You're not afraid, you're always confident. My time is running up so I must say what I must. I want you to know that though you were unexpected, I cherished you..."

"I want you to be born in a loving environment. I wanted to protect you from your fears but I was the one being protected. I'm sorry that you have to experience this life but I believe that it will be better. Become the personification of England because I believe you could better things than I ever could. Thank you for everything. Thank you for being my daughter, I love you..." with that said, he disappeared and I woke up.

I could not forget my mother's wish. I felt the need to honor Arthur by following what he wished for.

At first, I worked on the shadows with the help of the queen. I told her everything that was kept behind her back and she apologized for my mad father's doing. It was not her fault yet she was apologizing. I assured her that I would be fine.

When the time came that the great King George III was on his death bed, I trudged my way in and our eyes connected. There was a slight glint of lust in his eyes and I had to keep my composure before I let it all out.

I seated myself beside him and said that I was the new personification of Great Britain. He was delighted and gurgled, "Ah. A fine woman to run the country to its shining future. I sense good things coming your way and the way you look is absolutely stunning, my dear. Unlike the last personification that is..."

I've had it with him rudely ruining my mother's reputation. How dare he! An idea popped in my brain and I smile in a very Kirkland way. "The last personification, huh? Oh right! You mean, my mother!"

With that being said, the man's eyes widened and he sighed, "No. It was a disgusting man with caterpillars for eyebrows." My eyes narrowed in hot fury. How dare he insult my mother!

"Ah yes. I believe his name was Arthur Kirkland, was it not? Then that's my mother" I beamed at him in a fake way. Madman was choked in his own saliva and coughed. I decided to furthermore torment him.

"My mother was a man, yes, the very first in this entire universe. I do believe that I was conceived through your sexual harassments towards him. Oh, I knew everything by the time I was born. I had to hide my existence, witness him writhe in pain and humiliation, and hear the news of his death...But I believe that he was a good personification. If he wasn't, he would have not decided to risk his life, trying to bring me into this world. He wouldn't have to smile for me whenever he has bruises on his body, and most of all, he wouldn't have to die of a war he never wanted to start. But guess what, an innocent personification paid his life as the price for his King's stupidity"

By the time I ended my charade, the old man stared at me with horror. He kept mumbling, "Impossible", "Can't be real", and "You're lying." I stomped my foot, annoyed by his childish display. I watched his chest heave deep breaths and collapse into bed, breathing his last. Nothing could given me more joy than his death. "The underworld will freeze before you could lay a hand on my mother. I swear to the gods." I left afterwards.

Glee was the only thing I could feel as the guards rushed to the King's bedroom when I told them that he was gone. Now, Mother is free, he will get his happiness, and he will be no longer tormented. As I walked through the palace gates, I heard a soft 'thank you' pass my ear.

I smiled and looked up to the sky...reminiscing with memories is so hard when it happened years ago. Well, that's the truth that I've always wanted to share. As for my relationship with France and America, nowadays, I get along with them but I get along with Canada the most.

I like quiet people unlike his boisterous brother and his perverted papa. We talk a lot about our past and we just mutually understood each other. Kumajiro seems to like me too so another reason why I prefer his company than theirs.

I know my mother is somewhere out there, watching over not only me but also my, no - _our,_ country. I believe that with this, we could now strive to the better life.


End file.
